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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427063">Adding shadows to the walls of the cave</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbookworm/pseuds/lesbianbookworm'>lesbianbookworm</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Season/Series 11, Another Season 11 Thing. Ups., Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, Lucifer Possessing Castiel (Supernatural), M/M, Misunderstandings, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Assault, Unrequited Castiel/Dean Winchester, also the destiel is unrequited, and the sastiel is... not real either, just a short little two-shot of All The Pain for Sam and Dean, mentioned Dean/Amara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:29:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,715</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24427063</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianbookworm/pseuds/lesbianbookworm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean returns from a grocery trip, the last thing he expects is to walk in on Sam and Cas getting it on in the library.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Sam Winchester, Lucifer/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>As already mentioned in the tags, please do not go into this fic expecting actual sastiel. It is another post-mid season s11 AU, so... But since Dean doesn't know any better... :^). Also this is my first time in a while writing from Dean's perspective and... I like it! (But Alas, its another hozier lyric title)</p><p>TW for mentions of Dean/Amara and the canon sexual assault that comes with it (aka mentions of forced kissing) and murder, as well as something that kinda references Dean's time in hell in regards to rape, but nothing explicit. There's slight nsfw and a lot of alcohol.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>As already mentioned in the tags, please do not go into this fic expecting actual sastiel. It is another post-mid season s11 AU, so... You know... ;) But since Dean doesn't know any better he will speculate on it. Also this is my first time in a while writing from Dean's perspective and... I like it! (But Alas, its another hozier lyric title.)</p><p>TW for mentions of Dean/Amara and the canon sexual assault that comes with it (aka mentions of forced kissing) and murder, as well as something that kinda references Dean's time in hell in regards to rape, but nothing explicit. There's nsfw due to a description of people having sex and a lot of alcohol.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean steps out of the Garage, the weight of the shopping bag heavy in his hand and the weight of guilt heavy around his neck as nearly always when he leaves the bunker those past weeks (Amara’s shadow looming over them, preparing to swallow the world whole). Even though it looks peaceful for now, Dean knows that they had doomed the world again. He shakes it off, not wanting to linger on thoughts of God’s sister any longer than he has to, except she’s persistent like gum stuck to his sole. They’ll have to figure out a way to stop her. But ever since Sam’s Lucifer plan went belly up, they’ve been flat out of ideas and since she isn’t currently carving her way through cities, they’ve been holing up here, fruitless research and way too regular beer runs filling their days.</p><p>He puts the bag down in the kitchen and turns toward the library where he left Sam and Cas earlier, noses buried in books.</p><p>A small breathy <em>hurt</em> grunt bounces off the shelves and into the hallway - Sam! - and Dean’s heartbeat ratchets up. Worry rising up like an instinct immediately makes it hard to breathe. He doesn’t have his gun pocketed - he had left it in the Impala when he got back, getting complacent and soft and so very stupid - but he does carry a knife in his jacket. He unsheathes the blade and creeps forward, readying himself to throw a glance around the corner and jump into action if necessary. Terrifying images flash through his mind. Somebody had broken through the wards and locks and his brother was held at gun or knife point or supernatural power. Amara had decided she was tired of waiting for Dean to come to her and so she had come to him, her hands holding Sam’s face now, cradling it before she dissolves him with a snap because Dean was hers, only hers. He shakes himself out of his horror, because he can’t allow himself to be frozen by it. He tries to imagine better scenarios as he wills his muscles to move again, inching forward, hoping that his knees don’t crack or his boots squeak. Maybe Sam had just dropped a book on his toes since he rarely wears shoes in the bunker now, padding around in socks instead. Maybe he hit his knee on the table. Maybe this would be something he could tease Sam about - getting older’s a bitch, huh? Maybe everything’s okay and he’s just worrying for nothing and they can all sit together drinking beer and laugh about it later.</p><p>
He leans further, there’s another grunt and the creaking of wood and-</p><p>His brother is splayed over a table, his flannel open, fabric swaying where it’s hanging off the table, his naked legs in the air - no socks, Dean notices for some reason and Dean knew he had been wearing some before he left for his grocery run - knees bent where they are draped over Cas’s shoulders, over the buttoned up white shirt. Cas isn’t wearing his tie and yet Dean’s gaze drags down anyway to Cas’ hands gripping Sam’s hips and he’s <em>thrusting</em>-</p><p>
A whine spills over Sam’s lips and Dean whirls around, tearing his eyes away. He staggers away - quiet, quiet, he doesn’t want them to hear him now - his knuckles white around the knife and his hands shaking. As he continues down the hallway, the rest of the adrenaline recedes as an ache rips through him.</p><p>It’s sudden and brutal, but not at all unexpected. He had known that he felt a certain way about Cas, but up until now it wasn’t like he had any competition to worry about. As long as Cas was alive, he would always be there and Dean could enjoy their friendship without ever having to deal with the terrifying feelings that only ever seemed to spill over their confines when Cas was gone or Dean was dying. It was fine, because Cas would never get with anyone else, because despite his disconnect from heaven, he was still an angel and didn’t really go in for those kinds of things. Or so he thought. He had obviously been wrong. (Cas’ fingers digging in Sam’s flesh, the pressure leaving white spots, Cas leaning down to kiss Sam and-).</p><p>Dean’s sure this isn’t the first time for either of them and that hurts as well, but differently. He always thought he was the one who knows them best, especially Sam. But apparently he doesn’t. Through the pain there’s anger, hot and bright - because if Sam liked guys he could have told him, if he liked Cas he <em>should</em> have told him - but it burns out quick, leaving him with a bitter taste in his mouth, because he hasn’t told Sam that either. Still, Sam’s supposed to be the one who’s in touch with his emotions and always wants to talk. Did he think Dean was gonna judge him for it?</p><p>
He steps into the kitchen, hand already reaching for one of the recently bought beer bottle, but he changes course before his fingers can skim over the cap. He’s going to need something stronger to deal with this.</p><p>He grabs one of the glasses and the decanter filled with whiskey and then he continues to his room. (Cas without a tie because Sam must have taken it off, their faces smashed together in a greedy kiss and Sam’s hands on Cas’ tie, Cas’s hands not even needing to pop the buttons on Sam’s plaid open, because Sam liked his flannels with snaps instead of actual buttons so Cas would just need to tug at the fabric and-)</p><p>Dean pushes the image away again and kicks his bedroom door closed behind him - if it echos through the hallway and they have to rush to get dressed, thinking Dean will walk in on them soon, well that’s their problem. Still he grabs his phone - if Sam or, worse, Cas checks in on him once he’s hammered, he’s not sure he won’t say something stupid, so it’s best to keep them away - and sends a message that he’s got a headache during the drive and he decided to turn in early - real early - today.</p><p>He pours a drink and swallows it. It burns, but he’s used to it. From a logical standpoint, he knows he has no right to be pissed - Cas is his own man or angel or whatever and if he wants to screw his brother’s brains out on the library table then has every right to do so - but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. He has no right to dictate who Cas dates, had always known that it was possible that one day Cas would find someone once their fight was over and he’d leave, but that had been nebulous and far away and who knew if they would even be alive then. But Sam? Of all people and angels and demons that roamed this planet, Cas picked <em>Sam</em>?</p><p>Cas’ closeness with Meg hadn’t been that bad, mostly because at that point Dean had been angry with Cas, still so incredibly pissed for all the lying and for hurting Sam like he had and because it had been Meg. Sure, she was an uber-bitch and even if she had gotten nicer in the end, she was still a demon and it just didn’t seem like something that would last. Cas would be back at some point, Dean had known that. Or maybe it things did go really wrong - or really well, both were possible, the riding off into the sunset together and a sudden betrayal leading to death - then Cas would be out of his life again and Dean could grieve him and maybe, somehow, move on.</p><p>But this? Cas and Sam? The thought of seeing them and being with them everyday was something that had brought him joy before - his family all in one place, safe and happy - but the thought of seeing them together everyday, even if it means they’re safe and happy, even though the last thing he wants to do is lose them, just hurts. The jealous anger bubbling underneath it all makes him sick as well.</p><p>And then there’s also the question how long this has been going on for. Sam hasn’t had any long term relationships in a while, not since <em>Amelia</em> and that’s a whole other punch in the gut to remember. He’s no longer angry and he wasn’t lying when he said he had forgiven Sam - sometimes when he’s feeling fine and when he’s feeling good enough about himself enough to understand that people care for him, not because of what he could do for them, but simply because they liked him, he even feels glad about it, especially now. Maybe Sam had saved them an apocalypse there - but that still doesn’t make the memory a good one. Still, unless Sam had one night stands that Dean didn’t know about, then he wasn’t even sure that Sam had gotten laid at all. Despite everything that just wasn’t really Sam’s style. Not regularly anyway and most definitely not recently - although if Sam could keep up a whole secret relationship, then maybe he could also sneak off for random one-night stands. But this, this <em>thing</em> between them couldn’t have been going on that long, he was sure they hadn’t been - an item? Together? <em>Fucking</em>? - before then. He would have noticed and Cas was mostly absent anyway, preoccupied with heaven and Sam was so ill and feverish he talked about everything - their childhood, his shame about the demon blood, the cage, sometimes, when he started screaming about Michael burning him again, but equally skittish if Dean tried to cool him down, begging Lucifer not to touch him again. Dean doesn't think he remembers all of that. Point is, he would have mentioned dating Cas. Probably. But when had it happened then? Dean remembers that he had left after they finally got Gadreel out, and then it had just been Sam and Cas as they extracted the grace and then while he had taken on the Mark of Cain he had pushed both of them away further and maybe that’s when it happened, that’s when they sought refuge in each other. Maybe all those times Sam snuck out, trying to figure out a way to cure him, he was also sneaking off to see his <em>boyfriend</em>.</p><p>
And okay, if it happened then, then Dean can kind of understand why they didn’t tell him. If there was even a part of Sam that believed that he would disapprove, then using the time while Dean was easily irritable and just constantly angry and struggling to keep it all down wasn’t the right time to mention something like that. And the time after hadn’t been that long yet. But it still stings. </p><p>By now he’s finished his glass and not wanting to waste the time to refill it, takes a swig directly from the bottle. Slowly - not fully, but a little - things are starting to dull a bit more with each drag he sucks down. By the time the bottle’s empty, he’s feeling a bit spacey already, but damn it, he needs more. He gets up from the bed where he’d been slumped over, waits out the slight dizziness and starts moving. In the hallway he hesitates. He knows there isn’t any more in the kitchen - Sam had emptied the good stuff down the drain and Dean hadn’t yet refilled it - and he’d neglected to refill his stash in the main hall after his last binge (washing down the taste of Amara’s lips on his and the constant, steady <em>need</em> he had felt when with her). And then there’s still some- “The library, dammit”, he mumbles, his mouth suddenly dry. He knows some time has passed, definitely enough for a human to have finished a bunch of times over but- if angels were anything like demons they could still be at it. Or maybe that was just a side effect of hell.</p><p>
He's spiraling again and now, with just enough alcohol in him to really drag him down further, there's no way he can stop it. He wishes he could just pass out and sleep and forget, but he knows he’s not going to be able to stop thinking long enough. Not unless he gets a lot more alcohol in his bloodstream. So he tries to be quiet and he tries to listen out for noises. And if they are still there, he’ll just turn around again. From Cas’ room there’s the sound of a TV and relief floods through Dean, although he doesn’t understand why they would sleep in separate bedrooms - he knows Sam’s in his, he’s woken him up often enough for that recently. Not that he wants to think about what they would do if they shared a bedroom. He trudges on and finally reaches the library. </p><p>
He tries not to look at the table, tries to focus on the hidden compartment in the shelf where he hid two bottles of Jack even before the Mark became a problem. Back then he had found the idea of a secret liquor stash in the library simply very amusing. Ever since he’s been toying with the idea of sighing, getting up and just producing the bottle out of thin air and theatrically hail it as the solution to the thing they were currently researching frenetically, evoking Sam’s famous bitch face and an eye roll, but underneath it all a fond smile. Amara and guilt had left him too anxious for that, even though things had been plenty tense. He grabs both bottles and turns around - the wrong direction, but he’s already moving, it’s too late to stop - and his gaze meets the table. Again he sees them intertwined and his grip around the bottles tightens. He needs a drink now. Squeezing one bottle between his elbow and his body, he fumbles with the cap of the other. </p><p>He rushes out of the library and back to his room, thankful that he doesn’t meet either of them in the hallways. </p><p>He’s gonna have to talk to them about this. Now that he knows… the thought of them continuing to sneak around hurts as much as the thought of having to see it. Not the sex obviously, seeing his brother like that was not something Dean wanted, but the rest that came with dating. But maybe if he actually got to be around them without them hiding it, if he sees it regularly and sees how happy it makes his brother, how happy it makes Cas - he takes another long drag at that thought - maybe then it’ll be easier for him to bury his own feelings again and get over it. Feel happy and glad for them as a good big brother should. If they have a good thing going, then- Dean’s not gonna mess that up for them. He’s messed up enough.</p><p>So, he’s gonna ask them about this. Maybe drop some hints, or maybe just put it out in the open that he saw them, get some explanation at least. But only tomorrow. For now, he’s going to drink until he stops thinking, until he stops feeling, until the scene of them on that table finally fades to black.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Aaaand the second chapter. It gets real dark here, so please be aware. This is by far the most explicit thing I've written ever.<br/>TW for graphic sexual abuse, mentions of past sexual abuse, past torture and murder, a rape victim being forced to initiate and participate in their abuse under threat of violence and a whole pile of mind fuckery</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Dean had left for a grocery run not that long ago and Sam tries to focus on the book he should be reading, should focus on finding Amara, but it’s hard to keep his mind on the task. He knows-</p>
<p>
<em>I’ve been thinking, Sam. I really like this place and I would enjoy doing something in the library someday. Don’t you agree?</em>
</p>
<p>
With Dean gone, the timing couldn’t be better. He can feel Cas’ eyes on him, waiting and eager, peeking at him from over the book he’s holding. His hands are only shaking a little as he puts the book down and slides off the chair. His knees hit the ground and soon he’s crawling forward. </p>
<p>His mouth is dry and he wishes he would have taken another sip of water before he initiated this, but it’s too late now. </p>
<p>Cas is pretending to read, eyes trained on the book, but he’s spread his legs further and leaned back, giving Sam more than enough space to crawl between.</p>
<p>He doesn’t give himself time to think and lurches forward, only barely avoiding headbutting Cas in the crotch, but he manages to catch himself just in time and turns it into a somewhat forceful nuzzle instead. The zipper of Cas’ suit pants scratches uncomfortably against his face, but the fabric at least is softer than jeans. </p>
<p>“Oh, Sam. I didn’t see you there. Do you need something?” Cas pats his head and snaps the book closed with his free hand. Sam suppresses the flinch at the sudden loud noise, only allowing himself a small shiver that could be anything. Desire, maybe.</p>
<p>
  <em>And I want you to ask for it. Show me you mean it.</em>
</p>
<p>“You”, Sam gasps. “I want- I need you, please.” He suspects Cas is controlling his bodily reactions, because he’s still soft. Sam mouths at the fabric, desperately trying to hide the disgust that’s clenching his guts, the shaking that’s making him incapable of lifting his hand to open the zipper himself. He just has to get through this and he promised, he promised-</p>
<p>Cas-, no, not Cas, Sam has to remember, Cas would never do this to him - smiles and apparently he’s feeling generous today because he reaches down to pop his own fly, make it easier for Sam.</p>
<p>“What exactly do you need, Sam? How can I help you?” He sounds concerned and slightly puzzled, just like the old Cas, but Sam knows if he’d lift his eyes (don’t, he can’t, he’ll be strung up and-), he’d be smiling, hungry, revealing far too many teeth.</p>
<p>Sam knows he should respond (<em>use your words, Sammy, or I’ll take your tongue next time if you don’t need it anyway</em>), but his mouth is dry and all he manages is a whine (god, he hopes it sound needy, hopes it sounds desperate for him and not desperately afraid of him) and again he pushes up, presses his mouth against the soft flesh, actions his only hope where words fail him. “Please, please”, is all he manages to force out, mouthing on the still soft organ, but there’s nothing, not even a twitch and the hand that’s placed on top of his head starts curling. (He fucked up, he’ll be punished any second now, with Lu- Cas, he wants him to think of him as Cas for this, and so Cas will be the one to push him away and reach into his mouth and pull all his teeth out).</p>
<p>“But Sam, we shouldn’t. Dean could come back any minute and catch us.” By now the smirk in Cas’ voice is noticeable and his fingers straighten out again, a small reprieve, but he gets impatient so easily. </p>
<p>Sam knows what he wants to hear, but the words are stuck in his throat. Fingernails rub over his scalp. Sam could be down here for hours without any results and then when Dean comes back Cas would wait for him to see this, heartbreak, followed by disgust as Dean is pinned in place and forced to watch, or if Sam still doesn’t cooperate Dean’ll be flayed alive, slowly and precisely, Cas making sure his screams echo throughout the bunker before he lets him black out for a bit and then he’d hold Sam down to take him anyway directly besides his brother’s unconscious body. After it’s done, he’d erase Dean’s memories and replace them with muddied thoughts of a weird and really kinky date he picked up on a bender. What’s another debasement, another string of words that burn like acid as he spits them out, in comparison to that?</p>
<p>He licks a stripe along Cas’ length and then finally looks up, the fingers have been tugging at his hair slightly, urging him on. He hopes he looks less terrified than he feels, but he thinks he at least manages to keep his voice kind off steady as he replies. “That’s what I want.”</p>
<p>Cas tilts his head, confusion painted on his face. “You want Dean to come back?” he finally says, as innocent as can be (like a little angel, Sam thinks bitterly) and there’s only the tiniest sliver of red gleaming in his iris. Sam’s on the right path.</p>
<p>“Yeah, bu-but not just so he’s here. I want him to come back and walk in on us. Want him to know that I belong to you. Want him to- to see just how much I love it.” His voice is shaky and it takes him far too long to get the sentences out. By the time he’s done, the shake of his arms has become noticeable, the tilt he pushed himself into in desperation and then froze in under Cas’ hand straining his muscles. </p>
<p>Cas grins and the flesh under Sam’s chin twitches and the next second the hand pushes him back a bit. When it releases him, Cas is suddenly hard. Sam dives forward, wrapping his lips around Cas and he blows him as if his life depends on it. Which, well, it kind of does. When he’s like this, and only like this, Cas lets him cry a bit sometimes. But a stuffed nose makes it hard to breathe, especially if Cas decides to push him down for a bit and so Sam tries not to let the tears spill over. He reaches up, grabs hold of Cas’s knees to balance himself better. If he forgets that it’s his best friend’s dick he’s sucking, it’s manageable. If he ignores the way he’s made to participate in it, he’ll survive. If he tries to convince himself that this is just a really, really vivid memory, he’ll be able to get up after and stumble to the showers to wash the cold that’s creeping into his bones away.</p>
<p>For now that’s all he can do. He can break down later tonight. Lucifer promised to leave him alone if he’s good after all.</p>
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